Shadowboxing with a memory

We were a boxing family. Some of my friends watched baseball with their parents, others preferred football. This was before the Michael Jordan dynasty, and while there were many basketball greats in the 70's, I don't remember ever hearing anyone talk about watching the game. Even fewer had knowledge of soccer and hockey.

Boxing was something my father loved and wanted to pass on to his kids. I don't think he ever tried his hands at the sport. His uncle, Mickey, was an amateur boxer, and showed some promise, my dad would tell me, but he put his family first.

We had Ali, Frazier, and Foreman. My dad also gave me Marciano, La Motta, and Louis. I paid more attention to boxing when I was a kid than I did anything else. It was the connection that brought my father closer together with his boys. It was something he enjoyed. Since he didn't have many hobbies, it was big.

We were one of the first families to have both a VRC and cable TV. We had this thing call On-TV, the predecessor to Comcast, AT&T, and Dish. Just like my friends who would invite me over to watch the World Series or the Super Bowl, my parents loved to throw parties for boxing matches.

The one that sticks out in my mind the most is Larry Holmes versus Gerry Cooney. We must have had 50 people in our basement that night. The fight was being shown on On-TV, so our friends and neighbors would not be able to see the match without us. It was exciting.

All of the adults were drinking, smoking, telling jokes, singing. The kids were playing 8-ball on our pool table, and attempting to do the trick shots we saw Minnesota Fats do on Wide World of Sports.

When the fight began, everyone stopped what they were doing to focus on our big screen TV. This was long before the Tyson 30 second, first round knock-out. The Holmes versus Cooney fight went 13 rounds; an eternity for those who were forced to attend, but wild entertainment for the fans.

As the years went on, my dad and I would watch boxing matches together on TV. When we couldn't get together because I was away at college, or living in another state, we would call each other up before, during, and after the fights. While Tyson was a skilled boxer, I wasn't a fan. I always wanted to see him get his ass kicked. My dad was more forgiving with him, acknowledging his skill over making bad personal choices. I preferred the old timers, the standards, if you will: Ali, Frazier, and Foreman were my favorite. But they are easy and obvious choices.

I don't get to watch many boxes matches these days. The sport seems to be taken over by Mixed Martial Arts, which I have no interest in pursuing as a spectator. I'd like to give Frederic my love for the sport, but he's content with the standards himself. Boxing doesn't seem as innocent as it used to. Or maybe it's always been that way, but I was just too happy to be making a connection.